Water dripped from the ceiling, cracks from weather and damage that allowed such a thing to enter the depths of the old Golden Age bunker. There in the depths of the once command center where the old weapons of Earth would be launched, sat the large beast known as Kell Trovaks, upon a throne, but it was nowhere near worthy of a king. It was rather a collection of supply crates, which suited his needs quite nicely. However, he seemed dormant, the various optics of his broken helmet, scarred and damaged, with one of the horns seeming torn off from a battle long ago, were off, and he sat in a slouched position, one of his upper talons along the barrel of what seemed to be a Walker Cannon that had been modified to be used as a rifle. Layers of damage and rust were apparent across his armor, seeming as even if this Eliksni was immortal, time would always catch up.[C]

Still, there was a small clicking as one of the House's Vandals climbed through one of the piping and landed on the floor before the Kell, walking in between the various dead consoles before stopping and lowering to kneel, lifting its head before speaking within the tongue of their kin, [Kell Trovaks, I have returned with the scouting report.] It took a moment, but patience is what the House knew. From the dormant Kell came a deep breath, followed by a loud series of clicks from his maw as the optics flashed to life, a deep, orange glow, which one of far left sets seemed to be dimmer then the rest, but even so, he began to lean forward, rust shifting and flaking to the floor as his lower arms moved to perch himself on his lap, to look down at the small Vandal before him.[C]

He stared for some time, watching before finally speaking, [Speak, what of the readings we received from the north?] his voice was low, booming almost through the confined space as the Vandal lifted its head up to look at him, [The reports were true, the Hive have launched more Seeders, and they have planted deep within our territory.] The Kell didn't seemed pleased by this, the grip on his cannon tightening as he looked away for a moment in thought, [How many?] The Vandal took a moment, before nodding, [Three, and their efforts to establish a foothold is growing. We nearly lost Drelys in the process of our scouting. Their strength is growing.] There was a low growl from the Kell, his free upper claws balling into a fist and smashing against the supply crate it was resting on, denting the metal with ease. After a moment, there was a flash of light next to the Kell's head, the small being, a Ghost of all things, appeared and looked at the damage.[C]

It's shape wasn't completely normal, perhaps having shifted to ease his relationship to the Kell, and looked more akin to a small Servitor, but, the hull was a pale-yellow color, similar to the armor of the House. It blinked and looked at him, twirling its back section, "Trovaks, you know your House cannot take this on alone," It stated in a more common language, the large head of the Kell moving to look at it halfway, lowering the gaze to the concrete floor. "You are right," his acceptance to this fact was followed by the slow rise to his feet, even more rust falling form his armor as it took him several seconds to fully stand, using the cannon now more as a means to hold himself up. "Kell, I know you don't wish to do it, but it might be the best time," The Ghost stated, floating away from him and next to the Vandal, who rose to its feet as well to both look up at him as he took another deep breath, "Yes...[C]

now might be the time," his head sharply turned to look down at the Vandal, [Turn off the jammer, send a signal through your Ghost, use a dead channel. We require aid. It is time.] The Vandal seemed shocked, letting out its own clicking, before bowing its head and scampering off, down the hall as the Kell was left alone with the Ghost. "Turn on the security systems. I want to see who heeds the call," the Ghost seemed to nod, turning to face the number of screens on the opposite wall before stopping, looking back at the Kell, "If they find out about us, they might try to destroy the House. This is a huge risk," it stated in a monotone voice, the single eye blinking as the Kell walked the steps up towards it. "The House cannot fall. We must take this chance. If we die here, the Eliksni are lost. I must see my purpose through.[C]

I must become Da-Kell," He stopped and stood beside the Ghost, draping his tattered cloak around his body as the Ghost thought for a moment before floating to the screens and down to a console below them, projecting its holographic beam at the device before there was a low hum, the screens coming to life to illuminate the room with the various camera feeds of the once abandoned missile silo, situated within a deeply forested area of the European Dead Zone. The lights from the screens lit up the banner in the back of the room, right behind the Kell's 'throne', the symbol of their House on display, as soon enough, a message floated through the Ghost channels. A call from aid, the sender unknown, but there was a location, from somewhere in what was once Germany. It was only a matter of time now.[E]